


After School

by highboys (orphan_account)



Category: Soredemo Machi wa Mawatteiru
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-04
Updated: 2011-04-04
Packaged: 2017-10-17 14:11:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/177671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/highboys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And of course Futaba would fall in love with raccoon-face, of all people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After School

**Author's Note:**

> So I was supposed to be writing [ezyl](http://ezyl.livejournal.com/)'s fic but ended up rereading Soremachi in an effort to relive the craziness of the series. Then I remembered my lesbian OTP and had to write _something_ other than the Junjou Romantica fic that got me stuck in a rut.

They hung out in the rooftop to skip club activities (Futaba) or remedial Math classes (Hotori); sometimes Hotori still had leftover dumplings from lunch time if Tatsuno, in a last ditch effort at making herself look like a kind and generous friend in front of Sanada, fed her some of her rice balls over the break. Futaba didn't bring anything but her stomach, slightly rumbling at the smell of homecooked food that she didn't admit she missed a lot, and when Hotori made that pleased sound at the back of her throat, Futaba couldn't help but feel a little irritated.

"Your face," said Futaba, reaching over to pull at Hotori's cheek, for emphasis, "looks like your stupid raccoon."

Hotori made a face that looks like a cross between a pout, a sneer, and a kicked raccoon. Either way, her googly eyes kind of ruined the magnitude of her outrage, and Futaba felt her annoyance slip away. "Senpaaaaai," wailed Hotori, "owwww!"

"Ahou-tori," said Futaba, laughing. She tried to pretend she didn't find it hilariously cute, but by the time she'd used her other hand to pinch and mess with Hotori's face, she figured pretending wasn't working out too well.

The first time she'd come to grips with her slightly insane lack of taste (really? Hotori?), not to mention the inevitable spiraling down into madness called denial (really? _Hotori_?), she couldn't look at Hotori's face without wanting to punch it, or maybe pull her closer by the ribbon of her uniform to kiss her, open mouthed, and bite down into her lower lip until it bled. She'd always had a thing for the whole love-is-violence scenario given that Hotori kind of strangled her the first time they met, but looking at Hotori made her want to keep her thighs firmly closed as something in her lower regions thrilled and _ached_ like a pool of unwanted guilt and desire. Hotori'd thought that she was on her period or something, but it didn't really explain the perpetual moodswings.

Futaba stll wasn't sure when, exactly, Hotori had gotten the hint, but it might have had a lot to do with Hotori saying, "Jeeze, you're too serious these days, senpai," that made Futaba reach over and mash her lips against Hotori's, only their teeth clacked against each other's and Hotori might have strangled her with her tongue. Futaba blamed it on the way she drawled out _senpai_ with that failure of an attempt at leering, and Hotori, who always wore her heart on her sleeve and didn't have a brain to mouth filter _at all_ just put her hands on Futaba's shoulders and pulled her closer.

Like, say, now, for example.

Futaba exhaled into the kiss, loosening her hold, and Hotori smirked, triumphantly pulling at Futaba's earrings. "Now who looks like a retard, senpai?" teased Hotori, wiping a trail of drool on the corner of Futaba's mouth.

"That hurts," said Futaba, sniffing and standing up. "I'm going home."

Hotori yelped and followed her all the way downstairs; when Futaba was done slipping on her outdoor shoes, Hotori was still tugging on her shoes. The leather gleamed, even in the artificial lighting.

"You're so slow," said Futaba, slinging her bag over her shoulder. Hotori made another face; Futaba took a picture in her mind and thought of categorizing the image later.

"No, you're just too fast," shot back Hotori, and Futaba took pity on her and held out her hand. She helped Hotori up, only it was never the easy way with Hotori, who stumbled and bumped their bare knees together.

Futaba blushed, despite herself, and Hotori hooked her arm around Futaba's, dragging her to the school gate. When they passed the bakery, Hotori leaned closer, inspecting her ears.

"Wow," said Hotori, eyes shining, "are these new? They look really cool!"

"Too bad you're too much of a sissy to get your ears pierced," said Futaba, dryly. Hotori would look weird with piercings, Futaba considered, but she would have looked wonderful, either way.

"So," said Hotori, waggling her eyebrows, "same time next week, senpai?"

Futaba snorted, but took Hotori's hand anyway. "Whatever, raccoon face."

Hotori pressed against her side, so close that Futaba could feel the swell of Hotori's chest against her arm, and when they turned the corner and entered a convenience store, Futaba could have kissed her, then and there.

Not now, she reminded herself, chucking a pack of pre-made croquettes into the basket and yelling at Hotori to shut up; they had all the time in the world, anyway.


End file.
